


Obsessive Vanity

by Alainaw3



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actor Lance (Voltron), Actor Shiro (Voltron), Adopted Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Romelle (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Dirty Dancing, Eventual Romance, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Gay Keith (Voltron), Grinding, Lesbian Allura (Voltron), M/M, Model Keith (Voltron), Model Romelle (Voltron), Model Shiro (Voltron), Party, Top Lance (Voltron), probably some more stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alainaw3/pseuds/Alainaw3
Summary: Keith Kogane is an up-and-coming model who was raised on the streets where he was told his vanity was the only thing that defined him. After using his body to survive until he was adopted, Keith has now developed a tendency to prioritize his looks over all else, including his own true happiness.At a party hosted by film legend Lance McClain, Keith ends up getting it on with a mysterious man who manages to thrill and entrance him for the first time in a while. Well, until Keith realized it was Lance himself...
Relationships: Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

Keith stared at his reflection unblinkingly, gray eyes scanning it analytically as he adjusted his top and carefully brushed a hand through a tuft of hair. He squinted slightly before straightening a part of his skinny jeans and the chains that were hanging off it. People saw him as vain, sometimes. He’d hear all types of comments being whispered in his direction, but, at his modelling agency, he was pretty well-respected. Some just didn’t understand the point of fashion and wanting to look good. Needing to look good, that is. He wasn’t vain, just particular. 

“You ready, Keith?” Shiro asked, gently knocking from the other side of his bedroom door. 

“Yeah,” Keith said, gauging his outfit one last time before twisting around to pocket his wallet and head out the door of his room. He’d never had his own room before now; Shiro was really too nice, respecting his space and stuff. He’d never once had that type of experience before.

He faced Shiro whose face was scrunched up into a grin as he dangled his car keys and tossed them to Keith: “You drive today.”

Keith smiled back gently, twirling the keys around and led Shiro down into the lobby of the apartment and into the parking space where Takashi’s signature bright-red Ferrari was parked. He was a top model, one of the best around featured in movies and magazines. He was also Keith’s adoptive brother of 2 years.

Keith started the engine, the purr from the luxury car reaching every inch of his senses as he drove it skillfully to the location of the exclusive party they’d been invited to. Well, Shiro had been invited and offered a plus one which went to Keith. 

The city was one he knew well: he’d spent a lot of time roaming the streets on the southside and the crappy suburban sprawls just outside of it, looking for ways to get by. It was always shocking to drive by it now and feel disconnected from the carnage and trash laying on the side of the road. The shivering and huddled bodies around a fire while he was driving a fucking Ferrari to some upscale penthouse party.

He wasn’t sure if he loved it or hated it anymore. At first, of course, he’d been bitter and spiteful, but he’d grown to love his adoptive family (for the most part) and all of the perks that came with being a part of their wealthy and renowned name. Speaking of names…

“There are gonna be a lot of big names here, Keith. So, try not to blow something up,” Shiro warned gently. Keith shrugged and threw a smirk over his shoulder. 

“No promises.”

“Also, remember if you’re in trouble—”

“Press the button on my bracelet to send out a signal for you, I know,” Keith sighed, flashing the bland black strap wrapped tightly, like a choker, around his thin wrist. 

“Good,” Shiro nodded, ruffling Keith’s hair slightly before Keith would kill him for it. They were handing off the keys to the valet, getting out of the car, and entering the hotel. It was extremely lavish with the stereotypical red carpet and glistening, gigantic chandeliers. The place was illuminated with a golden aura, the air smelling in a way that Keith could only define as rich.

A man dressed in a tuxedo asked if they were heading to the party while Keith looked around with a raised brow and pursed lips. Shiro responded for them and they were being escorted to the elevator.

“Master Lance asked for the party to be slightly informal as I’m sure you know. Very exclusive, invitation only via my list,” the butler went on. Keith tuned him out as he studied his reflection once again, going closer to the mirror of the elevator to methodically shift his hair back into a style he liked that Shiro had slightly messed up.

The elevator dinged and the butler handed them some glowing and vibrating bracelets and necklaces. Colorful things galore and Keith realized that maybe this was some type of rave? He grabbed a few, scrutinizing himself as he carefully placed a strap around his thigh that illuminated a bright red color. Another blue/purple one alternating between the two colors was wrapped around his neck precariously. He took 2 of the light-up rings and put one on his right index finger and the other on his left middle, both glowing a soft blue and red respectively. Pulsing against his flesh. The one against his neck was especially pulsing and the one wrapped around his thigh made him hyper-conscious of the feeling. 

He liked it. 

“I hope the party is to your liking.”

The Butler opened the final doorway and music was shaking the ground, the beat strong and thrilling. Shiro looked slightly shocked at the state of the party before rolling his eyes. “Of course, Lance would throw this type of party.”

“What do you mean?” Keith questioned, looking confused. He thought this was fairly normal for a rave. 

“Nothing. It’s just pretty… different than an upscale party usually is. Promise me you’ll stay safe, alright? I don’t think anyone will hurt you here, but I can’t help but worry—”

“I’ll be fine, Takashi. I’m used to this type of scene, I practically lived at these types of gatherings,” Keith explained briefly. He didn’t talk a lot about his past to anyone, but he’d opened up enough to Shiro where he could understand the broad bits and pieces. Shiro didn’t want to admit that it didn’t exactly sound good. Like at all. 

Right before Shiro was going to tell him not to go too far off, Pidge appeared; Keith was gone without a second glance; Shiro felt anxiety infiltrate his system. Jesus, he was going to be white-haired by the end of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keith found himself swarmed by nicely-dressed, beautiful people who were all living it up. They were dancing and laughing, the music reverberating through their whole bodies. Keith was no different as soon as he saw a familiar face. Her name was Romelle and she was one of his buddies at the company he modelled for; she was infamous for her ability to attract all types of men and women. She had god-like connections, so he wasn’t exactly all too surprised to see her here. Her newest piece of meat was Allura Altea, London’s sweetheart token lesbian. Romelle denied it as being a climbing scheme, which was possible, but if it was Keith, he’d definitely be taking advantage of Allura’s connections no matter what. 

It was in a model’s nature to use their bodies to get what they wanted, after all. Someone with looks good enough could use them to survive and scale the limits of the world. Keith would know this best, of course.

Romelle and him immediately started dancing, grinding on one another for fun. Keith was throwing it back while Romelle gripped his hips and cackled. She wrapped a delicate hand around his throat with the vibrating necklace on it, long fingers squeezing teasingly as she kissed his cheek. She left a smattering of red lipstick that he would have to wipe off soon. It would make him itchy if he didn’t get rid of it on his complexion like any sort of impurity did.

“You’re so fucking kinky,” Romelle yelled over the music, and Keith grinned shrugging helplessly. 

“What can I say? I like to have fun,” Keith called back out. They continued to dance, bodies rubbing against one another while they laughed at their stupid antics. 

“Romelle! Come here for a sec!” a feminine, melodic voice called out. Romelle bit her lip and rolled her eyes.

“Allura’s jealous~” she said in a singsong voice before saluting Keith; she scampered off out of the crowd in a hurry. Maybe Allura wasn’t just a phase? Did Romelle actually fall in love? Stupid of her, but Keith couldn’t help but feel slightly happy for her. Allura was bound to be a good catch.

Keith felt someone sidle up next to him: a man with broad shoulders and golden tanned skin. The man did a body roll, his hips hitting Keith’s a little bit, grinding against his thigh. Keith flashed him a smile, not looking up yet as he rolled back against him. They started to dance, bodies flush as the man’s hands gripped Keith’s hips and (surprisingly gently) guided him against him. Keith swayed his hips slightly as the other man slowly wrapped his arms possessively around Keith’s torso, hugging him to him.

It was strangely intimate, and Keith wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He leaned his head back onto the other man’s shoulder, allowing him to grind and sway with him to the pounding music. He could feel the warmth of the other man’s-built chest, the way his long fingers were tracing up Keith’s sensitive nipples to his neck. The hand settled under Keith’s chin, tilting him back further so their lips met.

They felt warm and soft: well-moisturized and gentle as they kissed him. Keith didn’t like gentle all that often. He playfully bit the man’s bottom lip, tugging it out before letting it slip out from his white teeth. He saw the ghost of a smirk on the other man’s face, but he couldn’t make him out very well from the way his neck was pulled back and bared. 

They started making out, tongues dancing and seeking dominance before the other male finally took it. He was an amazing kisser, which was saying a lot: Keith had kissed plenty of men before. They finally separated to breathe, each of them heavily aroused with hot breaths permeating the other’s skin. The man released Keith’s neck and twisted him around so their groins were pressed together, rubbing. They each jutted out a knee, and he felt the other man start to rut against the vibrating strap on his thigh. 

“Convenient,” the other man’s voice purred out, and Keith found it was annoyingly familiar, but he chose not to think too hard on it, even if it was a struggle for him to silence his mind.

“Just for you,” Keith whispered back, voice soft and hot as he said it to the man’s chest.

“What about that other girl? Seemed fun,” he murmured, hands trailing from Keith’s back down to his ass, gripping each cheek tightly and squeezing them.

“She’s… ugh,” Keith groaned, both of them rutting together at the same time. The man was not disappointing, either, his package large even through fabric.

“Who?” the man asked, voice lowering with the hint of a seductive smirk edging in as one of his hands left Keith’s ass to grip his bulge tightly through Keith’s tight skinny jeans. He moaned lowly into the man.

“My friend from—” he moaned again as he fondled him, rubbing more sensually, “From my modelling company. She’s Allura’s girlfriend—and I’m gay so!”

“Ah, I see,” the man chuckled. “You’re a model?”

Keith’s own hand sought revenge as he took hold of the man’s bulge, palming it with practiced precision. The man froze up instantly, moaning so lowly that it hit Keith like a ton of bricks.

He was going to come from just the man’s voice? What the actual fuck?!

“Yes~” Keith choked out as the other male smacked his ass, gripping it possessively before grinding their bulges tightly together at the same time. They started making out again, Keith having to lean up slightly to make up for the distance.

“Please,” Keith mewled, eyes practiced in the field of seduction and tearing up at a single thought. He wanted to come. He wanted this man to make him come and he wanted to make the man come, too.

Keith was still a little too afraid to make eye contact with him, though. What if it was someone Shiro knew, and he was going to totally embarrass himself if they saw who he was and vice versa? 

“Don’t think so much. Come on, let’s finish this,” the man urged, grasping Keith’s hand in his own as he quickly dragged Keith out of the center of the circle and down an obscure hallway to a bathroom. There were clearly several others unlocked, but they just grabbed the first one available. 

Keith admired the male’s designer outfit and how it fit him to a perfection that meant it had been tailored specifically for him. Designed for him. Keith had thing for perfection, for beauty and design. 

He hadn’t even seen this man’s face yet, for fuck’s sake! He was getting swept away…

Their hands were wandering again, and Keith dropped to his knees suddenly, the other male leaned flush against the ornately styled wall of the bathroom. The floor under him was cool granite that slightly reflected the scene and was making his knees red and flushed. The male above him was undoing his belt while Keith unbuttoned his own jeans to free his dick which bobbed out and sprung against his top. 

He looked upwards just in time to see the guy’s cock smack against his washboard torso, head blushing and oozing precum down the veiny, 9-inch length. He had been packing, indeed, and Keith felt himself blush in response, eyes wide and excited in a morbidly erotic way as his pale hand gently fluttered along it. Trailing up the bottom-side with a flutter before he grasped it and gave a small little stroke that had the other male moan loudly. 

“Mm, so sensitive,” Keith breathed, echoing against the fleshy length the promise of his warm mouth. He licked a long stripe against the exposed side, lips suctioning around the top with a swirl of his tongue before popping off. He licked precum off his lips slowly, making a show of meticulously swallowing it all. More gushed out in response to the action, and Keith realized the dude was using his other hand to silence his loud moans and groans. 

Keith leaned upwards further and wrapped his lips around the guy’s dick, tongue twirling as he deepthroated the man down to his sternum. As he went up, his other hand stroked. He repeated this action several times, kitten licking the head and pressing kisses to it between each gag. The tightening of his throat one final time sent the man over the edge; he sobbed out, coming down Keith’s throat intensely as his hands gripped Keith’s hair and pushed him firmly down on his cock. Keith free hand was viciously stroking his own cock and ropes of cum soon splattered the floor as soon as he felt the man’s release enter his unhinged jaw. 

He pulled away, wiping his reddened lips as he swallowed down the cum. He gasped for breath afterwards, grinning down at the mess he’d made. 

“Holy fuck,” the other man said, a hint of a laugh in his voice as he buckled his pants back up and offered a hand to help Keith off the floor.

Keith wasn’t one for aftercare or stuff like that. He preferred a good one-night stand over anything to do with relationships and icky feelings, but he couldn’t deny that he’d had a lot of fun with the man as he allowed the tanned hand to pull him upwards. His pants were done up by the same man before he crouched down to clean Keith’s mess up with toilet paper. 

Keith forgot his special little rule and made eye contact with him. His blue eyes were striking and glittering, teeth white and pearly. Mouth crinkled into a stunning Cheshire curve. He was beautiful. 

However, with a bit more scrutiny, Keith realized he looked awfully familiar, too. Just like he’d thought earlier at the sound of his voice.

“Jesus,” the familiar guy whispered from his crouch. The hand not cleaning up cum went to Keith’s cheek and gently cupped his face: an act of affection Keith was not used to at all. 

“You’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m sure you must get that a lot though, with that face and body. And as a model, but seriously. I swear, God has favorites and you’re definitely one of them,” he winked. Keith’s whole body went rigid as the male stood up again, tossing the tissues into the toilet, promptly flushing the evidence away.

“My name’s Lance McClain. I would love to know yours,” he grinned, head tilting charmingly as his hand trailed down Keith’s cheek and arm to grasp his hand again.   
Keith wanted to run away. He wanted to pretend like this never happened because now he was fucking embarrassed. He just gave a fucking actor, singer, and overall film legend a fucking blowjob at a party that was supposed to be high-end and nothing like what Keith had made it out to be. 

Holy fuck. 

But… It would be rude to just run away. And Shiro might kill him if he was rude to Lance fucking McClain during his own party.

“I, uh…” Keith trailed off. The star waited patiently, all grins and calming glances.

“My name’s Keith. I’m… If you know Shiro, I’m his, uh, younger brother?”

Lance’s face paled significantly; he stumbled slightly at the name and covered his mouth. “Of course, I know Shiro. He’s one of my good friends. I didn’t know he had a brother, though… Oh fuck, he’s going to murder me!”

Lance must’ve gone through all the stages of grief in five seconds before Keith sighed and led Lance to the closed toilet lid as a seat.

“I was adopted like, 2 years ago. I’ve been modelling for a year. Umm, as for Shiro, he knows I’m sort of… He’ll be fine with it, don’t worry, I swear,” Keith promised, suddenly concerned for this other man’s well-being. 

He didn’t understand how there were this many emotions associated with a blowjob, but he prayed they’d dissipate soon. Before they both had mental breakdowns.

“Jesus Christ,” Lance whispered, voice trembling. Keith felt something cold in his chest as he realized he was responsible for such a melodic voice’s instability. It felt inherently wrong on so many levels.

“Listen to me,” Keith sighed, brushing a hand through his ruined hair anxiously, “Shiro won’t kill you. We don’t have to tell anyone—”

“No!” Lance exclaimed suddenly, face reddening slightly at his outburst when Keith raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow in surprise and confusion. “I, uh, I liked tonight. A lot.”

“Look,” Keith sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly as he felt a headache coming on when he realized the implications of the statement. “You’re very attractive and you seem sweet, but I have a rule with stuff like this. I don’t do relationships. At least not now, maybe not ever. It’s nothing personal—”

“I didn’t mean we need to date or anything! I would like to hang out with you, but if you don’t like things like that, I would settle for, like, a friend’s with benefits type of thing,” Lance squeaked out, intensifying in redness as he rambled on. Keith found it slightly endearing, but pummeled the thought deep down into his mind. 

There is absolutely no way anything like this could possibly go down well. It was too fucking risky for both of their careers and even Shiro’s to have some estranged sexual relationship thrown into their lives. “You must be stupid. If anybody were to find out about even this there’d be a social media scandal! Imagine a sexual relationship reveal with some skimpy model! We’d both be royally fucked. And unlike you, I don’t have any talent to save myself with—”

“I liked it better when you were quiet,” Lance grumbled suddenly, rolling his blue eyes. “What is it I told you earlier: ‘Don’t think so much’, right?”

“Someone here has to think,” Keith hissed. The man shrugged. 

“Look,” he breathed heavily, grasping Keith’s hips with both hands tightly again, “I really, really like you. I haven’t had a blowjob that good ever. And I know you were having fun, too. I love fun, and I can tell you do too, so why end it all here? A reward is no good without a little risk, right, Keith?”

His whispers were hot and wet on Keith’s cheek as his lips brushed the red marks Romelle had left there what was possibly an hour earlier.

Keith debated it in his head. This man was the ultimate wall to scale. He had connections upon connections, money practically oozing out of his pores. Hell, even his fucking guest bathroom was luxurious! Not to mention, he had a really nice dick and their chemistry wasn’t bad…

“Fine,” Keith replied. “You caught me you fuck-wad! I like my risks.” 

Their lips met heatedly again as Lance reached into Keith’s pocket to take his phone out. His hand felt so warm and big against Keith’s sensitive inner thigh. He whipped it out and entered his phone number quickly. His contact said simply “Lance” with a brilliant red heart emoji. He took a selfie of himself that made Keith simultaneously facepalm and blush. A goofy grin on his face and a hand with a finger gun. He sent a text over from Keith’s line to officially connect their numbers and then slipped the brand-new phone back into Keith’s tight pocket.

“Text me later, Keith. I know I will be, so don’t act like a stranger,” he waved over his shoulder, brandishing those long, slender, piano-playing fingers before he exited the bathroom and left Keith alone in absolute shock and growing arousal.

What an absolute pain this was all turning out to be already.


	2. Resolution and Repression

Lance flopped onto his futon, hands covering his reddening face as Pidge stared at him, unamused. It was the day after his party where he’d unceremoniously received a blowjob from Shiro’s younger brother at his impromptu rave, and the guilt and overwhelming emotions accompanying the scenario were starting to take precedence in his mind. 

“Your apartment is a wreck,” Pidge grumbled, face grimacing as she pulled a stray piece of toilet paper from off her shoe. 

“I know,” Lance sighed for what must’ve been the trillionth time. “But I have too much on my mind to worry about that.”

“Oh?” Pidge questioned, quirking a brow. “What is it this time, lover-boy? Somebody find your secret stash of porn? Did your console get stolen? I told you to be careful what rooms you left unlocked because even people with high profiles have sex drives—”

“Did you know Shiro has a brother?” Lance burst out, jerking upright to stare at Pidge’s reaction to the question. She seemed unaffected as she shrugged and eventually nodded.

“Not like they really try to hide it. Shiro’s one of the media’s favorite people to gossip about; Keith is an up-and-coming model. There were rumors about them dating, so it was only natural they had to reveal they were brothers so fans wouldn’t start to bag on either of them. Shiro’s fans are especially aggressive,” Pidge rambled off. She’d get into random bouts of spewing information where she’d talk for several minutes about the subject like a living, breathing encyclopedia. “Why?”

“You can’t tell anybody anything!” Lance squawked, leaning forward while looking stressed and extremely serious. Pidge arched an eyebrow, growing more and more concerned.

“Don’t tell me you did something to offend him. Because, I swear to God Lance, as your social media manager, I am not looking forward to the massive shit-show that’s gonna cause,” Pidge hissed.

“It’s nothing like that… Well, as long as nothing gets out. I just- I need to talk to somebody about it because I think I may have been a little impulsive last night,” Lance blabbered. Just like Pidge, he too went off on talking sprees, however, they were usually snippets of his own mixed emotions and parrying thought processes.  
Pidge’s mouth widened as she realized what Lance was getting at, hand cupping her mouth in disbelief: “You fucked Shiro’s brother.”

The way she said it was so final and self-assured that it was almost as if she’d known it from the start. And maybe she had considered it a vague possibility, but knowing that it was that obvious that even his social media manager could pick up on it was making Lance feel all types of anxiety infiltrate his system.

He was concerned because, first off, Shiro would definitely kill Lance despite whatever nonsense Keith tried to assure him with. Secondly, Lance’s fans were notoriously hostile, which he took a lot of credit for, even if it hadn’t obviously been his original intention. His flirty personality just so happened to give him a primarily straight female backing that went sort of beyond ethical standards with their broad proclamations of love followed by their promises to vehemently hate on anyone Lance gets close to in any sort of romantic or sexual way.

If this stuff got out, there’d be hell to pay. He’d have to get his generals suited up, including Pidge, to deal with the turmoil and raining bullet casings.   
“I didn’t fuck him,” Lance relayed slowly, “But I did… maybe get a quick blowjob?”

“Ew! Gross!” Pidge hissed, throwing her hands up as her face puckered up. “Way too much information for me! Your friendly neighborhood asexual does not need any graphic explanations—”

Lance rolled his eyes, feeling a little playful which was one of the ways he attempted to cope with his stress. “What? Pidgeon’s scared of a little blowjob?”

“Yes,” she stressed, looking thoroughly disgusted. “But… I can understand your current stress given the situation. I take it must’ve been very unplanned and, thus, very poorly dealt with afterwards. One good thing, though, is that Keith will be highly unlikely to leak anything about the situation out of fear that your fanbase would absolutely decimate him.”

“I actually handled the situation well, thank you very much. I have his number and everything.”

“Oh, I’m so glad! It’s almost like we couldn’t just ask Shiro for his number or DM him or something.”

“Don’t be snippy with me,” Lance whined, flopping back onto his side dramatically. His theatrics were something that Pidge had grown well-accustomed to in the years they’d known each other. Since 10th grade, she’d been trailing after Lance, helping him build his social foundation while he showcased his natural acting and singing abilities. 

In all of Lance’s interviews, he credited Pidge as one of his biggest supporters and best friends. They were close, so banter every now and again was more than normal for the two of them. It was pretty much expected.

“Keith acted so weirdly afterwards. To be fair,” Lance sighed, “I didn’t exactly know what to say either. But… I asked him out—”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised…”

“It must’ve been a good blowjob for you to want to date him,” Pidge laughed. Lance rolled his eyes and chucked a pillow at her.

“I thought you wanted to avoid the topic of sex at all costs. Plus, can’t you see I’m in emotional distress?!”

Pidge shook her head before pulling out her phone to scroll through it. She was going to do a little snooping on Keith’s socials and figure out a bit about him.  
“He said no,” Lance murmured suddenly; Pidge froze. Her glasses gleamed as she snapped her gaze back upwards. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized gently. The actor would never admit it in interviews or even to other friends, but Pidge knew he constantly felt unsure of himself fundamentally, as an individual and as a partner in a relationship. Ever since his last girlfriend, Nyma, who had cheated on Lance with one of his best friends and colleagues, he’d been feeling more and more down.

“It’s fine,” Lance grunted. He hated the pity more than anything else. “The weird thing was he worded it like it was one of his own little personal rules. Like that he won’t date people. He agreed to a friend’s with benefits relationship, though, and I don’t even know what entirely that entails or how exactly we’re supposed to confront one another after that night. I swear, I gain this godly confidence whenever I’m even slightly intoxicated and it’s always getting me into deep shit—”

“Take a deep breath,” Pidge ordered suddenly, and Lance didn’t hesitate to follow her instructions, realizing his anxiety had been piling up to a point where he could feel it about to tip him over the edge. “You’re going to figure this out. I promise I’ll help you, because I can tell this is about more than just some raunchy blowjob getting leaked to the public.”

“Thank you, Katie,” Lance whispered appreciatively, smiling softly. Pidge and Hunk were always supporting him through thick and thin; he loved them both so much. Both were high school friends who’d known him before fame. When he’d been piss poor and brutally bullied at a school where his family name was ostracized and his background was paraded around for everybody to scrutinize. 

“Keith Kogane. Adopted brother of Takashi Shirogane. Hmm… Interesting,” Pidge murmured, face scrunching up once again in confusion. 

“What is it? Please don’t say Shiro’s cancelling me already or something—"

“What? No,” Pidge sighed before leaning in closer to her phone screen, squinting. “Keith has a series of police records under his name.”

“E-Excuse me?!” Lance screeched, eyes widening to the size of saucers. Pidge shrugged noncommittally before turning off her phone and laying it to the side. Her hazel eyes were practically whirring with energy and swirling thoughts much like Lance’s head had been swimming only minutes prior.

However, instead of anxiety, her quick thoughts were effective methods of piecing together complex information in seconds.

“He’s a possible delinquent is what you’re telling me?” Lance asked finally. His voice wavered a bit. Delinquents were the people who’d pummeled him in the hallways. They were the people who mugged him years ago in an alleyway when he’d just been starting to gain a following. Delinquents always brought Lance nothing but misfortune.

“Even delinquency wouldn’t stop your seemingly unbounded attraction for him,” Pidge said before quickly continuing. “No. I wouldn’t say he’s absolutely a criminal. There’s a lot of reasons he could’ve been involved with a police report. For example, we could potentially view him as the issuer of the report, not the recipient. It could be for something minor or something major. Fact of the matter is, I could pay two dollars to see the answer off Yellow Pages, but I won’t. Because that crosses a plethora of moral boundaries that I don’t particularly wish to question today. We can, however, have a bit of discussion regarding it over some breakfast before we call Hunk over to help clean up this mess of an apartment you’re living in.”

“But,” Lance trailed off, “I feel like I haven’t solved anything.”

“Because we honestly haven’t. I’ve just been trying to maintain a state of damage control for the time being, starting with you as you’re my friend first and foremost. Secondly, I just followed Keith on your account for you, and I saw you have his contact information already in your phone. Shoot him a text or DM him.”

“You made me follow him?!” Lance exclaimed, looking shocked for the thousandth time today as a light sheen of a blush crossed his cheeks. He already had a headache from his slight hangover, but all of these changes and emotions were not helping him in the slightest. 

“No time to act bashful, McClain. You got sucked off by him in your own bathroom at your own party. Plus, now you can peruse his account when his manager accepts the request since it was on private, strangely enough,” Pidge grinned, getting up from the couch after she tossed Lance’s phone back to him.

“Hey! Instead of calling Hunk after we eat breakfast, why don’t we invite him over to make us breakfast?” Lance questioned, getting up from the couch finally to trail after Pidge and head to his kitchen. 

His phone was left behind where it softly glowed to show that his follow request had been accepted.  
…  
“Keith? You okay?” Shiro asked from the other side of Keith’s bedroom, rapping tentatively on the door. Keith knew his brother well enough to understand that was a 3 second warning before he would break into Keith’s room to make sure he was still breathing and hadn’t spontaneously combusted. 

Sure enough, Takashi was creaking the door open, staring through the low lighting of Keith’s room to where his brother was fixing his hair in front of a handheld mirror.

“I’m not dead, surprise!” Keith waved dryly with a fake smile before it collapsed; he stared at his frowning expression with internal contempt.

Shiro snorted good-naturedly before plopping onto Keith’s bed. “You’ve just been… Really reserved since last night. Nobody tried anything, did they? If they did, you don’t have to worry about a thing. Give me a name, and I’ll make sure they’ll never be trying anything with anyone ever again—”

“Can we just sit together? In silence? And no, nobody tried anything,” Keith lied. Shiro looked visibly more relaxed before he looked around at Keith’s room while the other adjusted his shirt and poked at his cheeks.

Keith was a bit… obsessive when it came to his looks. He knew that he was overreacting a lot of the time, acting out of proportion with his preening and plucking, but he couldn’t help it. He’d grown up in a world where he’d only been able to survive because he looked the way he did. 

It was a sad truth that many people didn’t like to face, including Keith himself. He rarely thought about his past head-on because there were so many unfortunate and unlucky twists and turns that he’d rather just forget. He just focused on his self-ingrained tendency to care for only his exterior looks while ignoring the rest of himself because, to him, it didn’t matter nearly as much. 

In a way, he was meant to be used. He was a disgusting being hiding underneath skin of something beautiful that was both him and not him. He felt like a stranger at all times, unsure of his purpose and value.

Keith quickly realized the train of thought his thinking was going down and stopped himself immediately from spiraling. 

God, Lance had gotten to him, he supposed. The handsome Cuban male was all that was on Keith’s mind as he stared at himself blankly in the mirror, forgetting who exactly he was. Just Lance’s brilliant blue eyes and stupidly white teeth. His long fingers and big hands. Shamelessly, he also thought vaguely of his dick. Everything about him was so incredibly perfect, and his personality matched his features beautifully, creating a balanced and flawless individual that Keith was no doubt tainting.  
He better just get rid of the Cuban’s number before things got too out of control. Having someone like Lance in his field of vision was definitely not a forthcoming thing. It defied all of Keith’s internal laws and was causing him to return to a mental state he wasn’t entirely sure he could live with.

“I know you said no talking,” Shiro murmured, “But I’m concerned about you, Keith. You have these days where all you do is stare, and I can’t help but feel like there’s something I should be doing for you. But you won’t talk about anything with me, which I suppose is fine, but you also refuse to go to therapy. I want to help, but I feel like you don’t want to be helped anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Keith hissed, whipping around suddenly. He felt something nasty bubbling up inside himself. Something smugly inside him whispering that he was finally revealing his true colors again. “That I’m some sort of lost cause? A broken fucking toy that’s lost a limb or something?”

“No,” Shiro said with resolve and definite determination as he carefully chose his words. “I think that you’ve given up on yourself, and it hurts me to see you struggle like this. I love you, Keith, even if you don’t think you deserve love.”

“Get out!” Keith screamed, rage soaring through his body as he pointed at the door and jerked to his feet. “You just keep fucking prodding me with this bullshit, trying to get me to reveal some sad or traumatic shit to you! But I’m fine! I’m normal! I don’t need your help or some fucking therapist’s bullshit advice! So, leave me alone for the love of God! All you do is poke and poke until I explode; I’m sick of it!”

Shiro knew better than to blatantly disregard Keith’s commands, especially when it was clear he was falling deeper into the depths of his mind. There was nothing Takashi could do except comply and dwell on the fact that no matter how much closer he felt like he was getting with Keith, the other was only just distancing himself more and more. Now, he felt so insanely far out of reach, and, at this point, Shiro was at a loss on what to do. 

For the first time in a long time, Shiro felt himself begin to spiral, too, as Keith’s sobs echoed behind his locked door.

Failure.  
…  
“Look,” the man sighed, leaning back into his stupidly cushioned office chair. “I want to help you, Keith. I really do. But I don’t think we’re making any sort of headway. Because of that, I’m opting to release you as a client.”

Keith was extremely timid around a year ago, and he’d gone to the therapist each week with his adoptive grandmother who pretty much was his primary caregiver. He suffered bouts of anxiety where he’d shake in the car and throw up on the side of the road from nerves on the way there.

He tried really hard to reach out, to explain what he’d been through, seen, and done. He did all the embarrassing little grounding exercises and confided in Takashi some new elements of his issues that were coming to light.

In summary, Keith was working very hard to get better. 

“W-What do you mean?”

“Well,” the man began, his graying corkscrew mustache being twirled between his fingers thoughtfully, “Occasionally, a client comes in that wishes to receive my help. I do my best, I truly do, with my extensive range of medical and psychological knowledge. However, some people are just beyond help.”

“Beyond help?” Keith asked in a squeak. He blinked his gray eyes at the man in confusion.

“Yes. To be frank with you, Mr. Kogane, I can’t see me being helpful to you nor vice versa. You have made absolutely no improvements and I feel as though my therapy sessions have been nothing but a hindrance to my time. And yours, of course. Feel free to get another therapist, but, like I said, there are just a select few very unlucky individuals who… just aren’t meant to receive help,” the man explained. 

Keith felt his world narrow and dim as he began to understand on a more thorough level. “Oh.”

The thing was, Keith had been feeling like he was improving. His anxiety had been reducing regarding therapy appointments. He was having an easier time communicating with his family. When he started to remember bad things, he could remind himself where he was. But… maybe it wasn’t good enough? He’d been trying all the techniques, though, so maybe the therapist was right. After all, he was the professional. 

Keith was just too broken to be fixed. Because no matter how much effort he was putting in, it seemed like nobody noticed he was making any changes. Nobody offered him any support besides Takashi and his grandmother who could only provide so much.

He left that therapist’s office silent, embarrassed beyond belief as he withdrew from the therapy-plan he’d been enrolled in. It was a long ten minutes of silence. Shiro had picked him up, offering ice cream afterwards.

Keith was too embarrassed to say he’d been deemed a lost cause. He ate his ice cream in silence while Takashi talked about how proud he was of him. A week later, Keith announced he quit therapy. That’s when he started to feel that toiling taint inside of him more insistently. A constant feeling of disgusting-ness that never went away on its own or even with water and soap. 

It was horrible. And Keith felt like that horribleness was all because of him. He’d been the one to ruin himself. He didn’t deserve any basic human rights because he was ugly. 

Ugly on the inside, it felt like, at all times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, written at around 3 am. Not really sure what I'm doing. Haven't proofread any of this stuff, and I'll probably regret posting it later but it is what it is. Hope whoever gets this far enjoyed it for what it is! Also, to specify, the end scene is supposed to be a flashback and it's sort of based off one of my friend's own experiences with a shitty therapist.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading. This was written at 3 am and is definitely not the best thing I've ever written. I thought maybe some people would enjoy it, though, despite its flaws. This is my first story being posted :)


End file.
